


Dean's Release

by rosabot



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Mild S&M, My First Destiel Fanfic, S&M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 09:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1894110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosabot/pseuds/rosabot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Destiel]  Dean's tensions over their current case are released by a sound spanking by a dominant Castiel</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's Release

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! Please leave me helpful comments <3  
> I tried to post this before, but I'm getting conflicting messages about whether it went through or not...Please have patience with me.
> 
> Enjoy!

This case was dragging on too long. Cas didn't need to ask Dean what was wrong; He knew that the seven deaths in this case so far weighed heavily upon him. Dean took each death as a personal failure as he always had, and the guilt was making him drink excessively and respond angrily whenever anyone interrupted his research. Castiel had tried to get Dean out of the tiny, dark hotel room earlier to no avail. He tried again now.  
"Dean," he hesitated, then took another step toward the other man, "I really think you need a break. Nobody will think you're doing less than your-"  
Dean didn't even look up from his pile of books, only raised his hand in an irritated manner. That was the absolute last straw. Cas strode across the room and grabbed Dean's raised hand, twisting it behind his back until he barely felt resistance. Dean's startled eyes met his own from inches away and blinked a few times in surprise before narrowing.  
"Cas," he growled, "I'm gonna tell you this one time. Let go. Of my arm."  
Instead of letting go, Castiel used his leverage on Dean to maneuver the other man to his feet, shoving him toward the tiny motel bed they had been sharing. When Dean found his feet, he glared at the angel and opened his mouth to shout but Castiel spoke before he found his voice, commanding "Put your hands on the wall, Dean. Now."  
Obedience had been drilled into Dean Winchester whether he liked it or not, and he dropped his gaze and turned to face the wall, placing his hands just above his head height. Cas never pulled dominance games like this without a good reason, he knew. Something inside of him was already relaxing, content that Cas was taking over the situation, however briefly. It was off of his own shoulders for now.  
Castiel walked over to Dean, gravelly voice soft as he accused "You have been selfish, Dean Winchester. You have been taking the grief and guilt from this case and you have kept it all on your shoulders." Dean didn't respond, he only hung his head and closed his eyes. He could let go. "You have been keeping everyone at arm's length," Castiel continued, "especially me."  
He had reached Dean and traced one finger down the other man's back, stopping to tug gently when he reached the waist of Dean's jeans. Dean tried to suppress a shudder. When it became clear that Dean wasn't ready to respond yet, Castiel gave him more encouragement. Leaning in to speak into Dean's ear, his hand moved from the waistband down to cup one of his cheeks, which stiffened just a little, then relaxed at his touch. "Dean," he rumbled into the other man's ear, "Have you been bad?"  
Dean's mind flew through the crime scene photographs, the names and faces of the victims. His mind's eye showed him the bloody footprints of a desperate attempt to escape that he had not been there to assist. He had been hoarding all the guilt, shoving everyone away until they killed the monster or he could drown his troubles properly. A new hint of guilt appeared, guilt at how he had been treating Cas and Sam. The only two who had stuck with him. "Yes," he whispered.  
Hand tightening, Cas growled into his ear, "What was that, Dean?"  
"Yes!" Dean shouted, voice heavy. "Yes," softer now, though not a whisper. "Jesus Cas, you out of everyone oughta know this feeling. Causing deaths." His head hung lower. "I couldn't save them."  
Cas knew this part of their ritual. Dean craved resolution for his guilt. He craved punishment for his sins, no matter how well deserved the punishment actually was. Comfort would come later, but this was time for release. Squeezing hard enough to cause just a little pain, he whispered in Dean's ear," Do you want to be punished?"  
This was the hardest part for Dean. He had to open up, admit that he had this need. That he felt this way, that he needed Cas, that he hated himself. He braced himself and forced the word out of his mouth: "Yes." That was all Castiel needed, as he knew not to push Dean when it came to opening up. Lifting the hand that was cupping Dean's cheek, he brought it away in an upward ark and circled it down and back, smacking it into the fleshy part of Dean's ass cheek. Dean's body jerked and his fingers went rigid against the wall, but he made no noise. Castiel's hand flew away again, returning with even more force to make a satisfying 'thump' against Dean's ass.  
Dean was right, who else would know guilt better than Castiel. The angel reflected upon that in silence as he delivered Dean's punishment. Some day Castiel would receive his own punishment, but not like this. Cas's sins were too great, he knew that. He was beyond redemption. For now, he must be content with helping Dean with his own guilt. As he landed his tenth hit, he paused, and Dean started unbuttoning his jeans. They both knew the drill. The dark denim sank to the floor and Dean opened his eyes, staring dully at the wall inches in front of his face. His body showed physical excitement, though his mind did not share the sentiment yet.  
Castiel resumed the spanking, hitting harder and feeling the warmth from the other side of Dean's boxers every time his hand landed with a "THWAP". Dean was making small sounds now, trying to keep it all inside, trying to hold it all together, as he had his whole life. Ignore the pain until it went away. Well, Castiel wasn't going to give him that option.  
"Strip," he commanded. Dean turned away from the wall in shock, blinking at Cas again. If Castiel backed down now, Dean would just retreat back into himself. "Now." After a moment's hesitation, Dean did as he was ordered. He avoided eye contact as he slid his shirt off and tossed it to the side, then pulled his socks off. He paused again until Castiel barked, "Boxers, too. You will do as told, Dean."  
That did it for Dean. He gave control to Castiel, relaxing as his mind slid into a submissive space that it had always occupied when blindly obeying John. This was a safer place. Nothing was on his shoulders. He was not in charge, and he didn't have to be strong. He slipped the boxers to the floor and met Cas's gaze. The angel sat on the bed, and Dean draped himself over his lap awkwardly. Castiel resumed the spanking immediately, not giving Dean time to adjust to his new situation. He hit hard, shifting his aim to the sides of Dean's ass cheeks, intensifying the pain. Dean cried out once before trying to control himself, but the pain was too much.  
He cried out again, squirming until the angel grabbed his arm again and levered it up until he stopped. With the other arm he started spanking even faster, raining down blows until Dean was begging, "Cas, Cas, CAS! CAS PLEASE" but he never once actually asked for his punishment to end. When he had let go enough to shout, he had let go of some of the emotions that stayed inside and poisoned him. Castiel landed a few more solid 'thwacks' as a slower pace before moving his hand over Dean's reddened cheeks, softly rubbing the burning skin. Dean's head dropped onto the mattress as his whole body slumped in release, his chest heaving. His mind was thankfully blank, even if it would only last for half an hour or so.  
Castiel scooted himself up the bed until he was leaning back on the pillows against the headrest. Dean wiggled up until he was cuddled against Cas's shirt, one of the buttons pressed into his cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of Cas, that familiar scent that grounded him when the world felt like it was spinning out of control. He relaxed, troubles gone for a blessed moment. Castiel let him be for a while, silently holding Dean and stroking his hair. He then reached down and ran a finger along Dean's thigh and up into the hollow of his hip, close to where his body was still showing it's approval of the whole ordeal.  
"Now, Dean Winchester," he purred, "What are we going to about this?"


End file.
